


One More Chance IV

by DancingHare



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 06:03:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13428360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingHare/pseuds/DancingHare
Summary: Vassanta tries to make amends with her sister.





	One More Chance IV

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published June 26, 2008

Vajarra looked startled to see her there, with good reason. The last time Vassanta had stepped into the temple on Aldor rise, their parents had still been alive.

Her sister wore the intricately embroidered blue and purple robes common to all of the attendants in the temple. They were a symbol of her status, and another reminder of Vassanta’s failure. Vajarra stood on the tips of her hooves to hurriedly replace a book on the shelf, then spun to face Vassanta.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, hardly above a whisper. Her eyes roamed the chamber anxiously, coming to rest on Vassanta again.

She couldn’t prevent a smirk from crossing her lips. “Gee, thanks for the welcome, sister,” Vassanta said, hooking her thumbs in her belt. She hoped her sister wouldn’t notice that she felt as out of place as she looked. After a pause, she went on. “I’m here to apologize, okay?”

Vajarra’s brows drew together as she frowned. “Apologize? To me? I am used to your ways by now, Vassanta. It isn’t me you should apologize to.”

It shouldn’t have hurt her, but it did. Vassanta was trying to make amends, to apologize and be a good person, and her sister was just throwing it back at her. “Yes, to you,” she sighed, sitting down wearily on one of the stone benches. “You were right.” The words made her wince to say aloud.

Vajarra had turned her back to her, running a hand along the spines of the books on the shelf. Vassanta wasn’t certain, but she thought she might be crying.

“I’m sorry I screwed up again, that elf thought–” Vassanta halted, shaking her head. “I’ll talk to him, all right? I’ll tell him I made a promise, whatever you want.”

Vajarra looked back at her, the coolly glowing eyes holding nothing but disappointment. “How many times have you promised, Vass?” Her voice was soft and sad.

Vassanta gripped the hilts of her swords, trying to steady herself. Her sister was so infuriating! It was easy for her to be smug and self-righteous, things were always easy for her. Vassanta was the troublemaker, the bad one, the screw-up. For years she had strained wildly against the suggestion that she should just shape up and act more like Vajarra, but wasn’t that what she was trying to do now?

Though she’d said nothing, it was as if Vajarra could read her thoughts. “You’re the only one who can make that choice,” she said, her voice still low and even. “I want to see you happy too. If you are happy now, then there is no reason for you to change.”

She wasn’t, and Vajarra knew that. Vassanta dropped her head down, holding it in her hands. “What am I supposed to do?” she pleaded.

Vassanta was surprised to feel her sister’s hand on her shoulder. They didn’t touch often, not anymore. “Trust in them,” Vajarra answered, gesturing toward the terrace far below, where the naaru shimmered, their colors gradually changing. “Trust in your heart. I know it’s still in there somewhere.”

She went back into a little room in the temple, beyond a gauzy blue curtain. Vassanta watched after her a moment, but did not follow. The temple wasn’t her place, it still felt as if she was a visitor in someone else’s home. She waited there a long while, as the sky deepened to orange, then burned brightly red and finally cooled to purple.

Her heart, too, felt cold and dark. She cared about her sister, in her own way, and she had certainly cared about their parents. But beyond that, she kept her heart safe and locked away, armored as well as the rest of her. The heart knew nothing of warfare and battle, of blood and rage and fury. It was soft and weak and let people hurt you. How was it supposed to help with this?

Maybe the Vindicator would understand.


End file.
